The Tasks at Hand
by BellaMonte
Summary: When Anna falls ill, Mrs. Hughes must manage a reduced staff, re-assign duties, and comfort a certain valet, whose stoic silence threatens to break under the threat of loss. Mrs. Hughes POV, Anna/Bates centric.


Disclaimer: Not mine. Wish they were mine.

A/N: Downton Abbey obsession has taken hold, and impatience and speculation for season 2 has driven me to begin making up my own stories/answers to next season's storyline. It's been a while since I've "picked up the pen" in fanfiction. I hope the exposition is not overwhelming, I am terrible at picking and choosing details.

This story will be told entirely through Mrs. Hughes' POV, but the plot is centered on Anna and Mr. Bates. This opening chapter's just warming things up and allowing me to explore Mrs. Hughes a bit before the story gets going.

It was not without some reluctance that I made my choice long ago to go into service. Like many others I was not born treading a path that offered many options in which to deviate from the one I traveled. Yet I did have the chance once to join another and turn down an entirely different road of life, one that would have brought with it newness and unfamiliarity. And whether it would have been an exciting or unhappy journey, I would have walked it with another.

Somehow I knew that it was better . . . better for me, anyway . . . to continue on the path I had already set out on, dedicating myself to a life of work instead of attending to a husband, and sharing life with a family of fellow servants instead of having a family of my own. The very nature and action of work has always suited me well, providing both security and self-sufficiency that I'm not sure would have been as satisfied had I chosen to marry. Indeed, through the many homes I have worked in, the companions I have taken orders from and those I have directed, work has been the steady hand that has led me along down each path and is eagerly awaiting my attention each morning.

This morning is no exception as I go about the task of reviewing the household expenses with Mr. Carson in his office. The war has brought with it its own share of challenges for all of us at Downton Abbey, not the least being having to revise the expense calendar for each week's trips to the market . . . and, by extension, the menu for meals upstairs. Rationings are taking place throughout England, and Lord and Lady Grantham have requested we save whenever possible.

"We will need to order one third of the amount of cheese and butter than these past weeks, and the sugar should remain at the same limitation as what we were given this past month as well," I say, sitting before Mr. Carson as he skims the list of market items from behind his desk.

"I am happy indeed that Mrs. Bird has remained with us," he says with mild trepidation. "Mrs. Patmore will not take kindly to another adjustment in the menu."

"Well, let's order a pound more of the beef so that at least the Sunday roast will not be altered," I concede, making a small change to the expense book in front of us.

There is a sudden bustle outside Mr. Carson's open door, and I turn briefly to see it is Charles, a new footman, and Mr. Moseley come from downstairs.

"Could it be tea already?" I ask, to which Mr. Carson nods at a quick glance at his pocket watch. This task, which normally has slight adjustments and takes only a few moments out of a day's work, now requires more than an hour of labor at the beginning of each week. New rations and fluctuating prices on everything from bread to coal have left us readjusting expenses at every turn.

I am hurriedly planning out my own list of tasks to attend to this afternoon – let's see, I must now review our latest expense list with her Ladyship before delivering it to Mrs. Patmore, then there's the library and upstairs rooms to be inspected before dinner and a trip to the market – yes, it will be a full day indeed.

"Well, I'd best be off to deliver this to her ladyship," I declare, rising.

"Just one final moment, Mrs. Hughes," Mr. Carson says, his voice dropping as he leaned forward to inspect the doorway, ensuring none were listening in. "May I ask for a report on the progress of our new housemaid?"

"Ah, I was planning to ask Anna that myself," I say, setting down for a moment longer. While we are both not of the conspiratorial sort, we currently share in the fault of having recently hired a girl to replace Gwen who was found to be a most unsuitable fit for the position. Dismissing her and going about the hurried process of finding another maid has had its share of extra tasks for us all.

"She seems to be doing a fair job, though Anna's had to take on more tasks, as the girl is still young and her last post was a small home in London, not an estate of this size. But Anna is training her well."

"Well, this is good to hear," Mr. Hughes affirms. It is with the latest hire that I hope we can finally cross this matter off our lists of pending tasks.

I catch Anna on the stairs as I make my way upstairs.

"And how is Ethel doing," I ask once we've exchanged good mornings. I've not seen her yet today, as I assume she skipped breakfast on account of training the new girl. A quick glance shows the fatigue these past weeks have put her through in having to take on much of the housework herself before Ethel was brought in, though she bears it well and greets me with a smile.

"Very well, Mrs. Hughes. I think she's learning quickly. We've just come from dusting the railings and I've left her to –" with a start, Anna pauses to turn and cough into a handkerchief ready at hand. "Excuse me, the railing had not been dusted this week and showed."

"And there's been no cause for concern? She too we had to hire quickly, so do inform me of any trouble."

"Well, at first I think it was all a bit much for her. The other family she worked for only had a few rooms, but I'd say she's getting the hang of it," she says in reassurance, bringing the handkerchief up to her nose.

"Go have some tea, dear," I say with a curt smile, dismissing her as I go to deliver the expense book to Lady Grantham. At arriving back downstairs I see that everyone is gathered round the table for afternoon tea, and it's with a moment's reflection I think on how the war has disrupted what used to be a common scene.

The departure of first Thomas (and William shortly thereafter) to war, and then Gwen to her new position has caused a rift in the usual collection of staff who would pair together. Daisy has been fretful and rather lost adjusting to life in Downton with her friends gone. She sits polishing some silverware with Ethel as Mr. Mosley and Mrs. Bird sit across from her, reading from the morning newspaper. At the other end of the table Miss O'Brien sits stitching the hem of a skirt, uncharacteristically quiet. Thomas' departure has dulled her tongue quite a bit, a silent relief to everyone.

Though much of the staff has been broken apart and re-assembled in new collections, one pair remains a familiar sight. Across from Miss O'Brien, Anna and Mr. Bates sit side by side, engaged in a quiet conversation as they finish their tea. The pair has often been separated as of late on account of Mr. Bates accompanying Lord Grantham on trips to London and Anna's been attending to extra chores. They appear to be taking advantage of the short morning break, with Mr. Bates sitting back in his chair, a small grin playing on his face as he listens intently to Anna. What she might be saying to break his stoic demeanor I have no time to ponder, as I've only a moment to quickly sweep the room before departing myself to the market.

I am just finishing tying my scarf and buttoning my coat when the bell rings, directing everyone back to their duties. Over the bustle of moving chairs and parting chatter I hear a fresh series of coughs and turn to see Anna bracing herself slightly on the chair as she attempts to muffle the sound with the cloth. Mr. Bates has remained sitting with her, his brow knitted in concern.

"Anna, the dusting hasn't gotten to you still has it?" I ask, stopping her before she leaves.

"I'm sure it's nothing, Mrs. Hughes," she says in reassurance. At close inspection however I see that she's quite pale, and fatigue is slowing her in her movements. She's unable to stop herself from bringing the handkerchief to her mouth again to cough softly. "It's just stated this morning," she admits.

"Ethel, would you be as good as to continue on without Anna the rest of this afternoon?" I ask the new maid before she exits.

"But Mrs. Hughes, I've not showed her which closets keep the fresh towels –"

"I can show her the closets when I'm back from the market," I say, leaving no room for argument. "It will be a good trial to see how well Ethel's doing on her own, and we will need you most later this week when Lord Grantham has his guests here. Now go and rest before dinner."

In truth I had half expected her to protest . . . Anna is not one to shirk work, indeed these past weeks I've been most impressed and appreciative of her taking on so much to ensure the housework continued to run smoothly with a reduced staff . . . but instead I am met with a tired nod.

"Lord Grantham's gone to call at the hospital this afternoon, I could lend a hand in the drawing room and study if you like," Mr. Bates offers as he watches Anna leave.

"That's kind of you, Mr. Bates. Let me do my business in town and I should be back within the hour and see if that's needed. Ethel, if you could finish the bedrooms I should be back before the downstairs needs attending."

"Yes, Mrs. Hughes," the new girl says brightly, darting upstairs.

It's a shame indeed to have to remove Anna for the afternoon. While we have a larger staff than some estates, we have a great number of rooms as well as lords and ladies to attend to, with each room and each lord and lady having their own share of needs. The loss of a maid for even one afternoon will require a fresh sorting of duties, but I am not one to be dismayed by such challenges or too proud to pitch in when needed. I content myself as I make my way to the market by once more re-arranging the day's tasks in my thoughts, a welcome distraction from the cold autumn wind.

TBC


End file.
